A Little Night Theater

I usually post Apartment Theater on Facebook, but am trying to work out a social strategy for Make.Do., CTW and Craftedlife that is more manageable.  Until I get it sorted, I give you…


SCENE:  He shoulda been in bed, y’all, but I just met Brandon on the steps, taking RJ on the last dog walk of the night. Here’s what happened when I walked out, inappropriately dressed for the event because I expected everyone to be asleep and not judging my nightgown-over-yoga-pants-and-fuzzy-socks-outfit and saw this sprite sitting on the stairs:

Me: Oh, hi! (Russell trundles over — he used to skip, but he’s not a young dog anymore). Don’t worry, he’s nice. Are you Brandon?

Him: No, I’m Brandon.

Me: …. okay.

Him: Why does he look like that? (Looking at Russell Jenkins while petting him.)

Me: Like what?

Him: Weird.

Me: (Thinking: Why do YOU look like that, you parentless child on the steps at 10:30pm? Where are your parents and why did they put you out here? But instead I said:) “What do you mean weird?”

Him: His body is crooked. And his teeth.

Me: Well, I guess because that’s how he was made. I think he’s beautiful. He’s my best friend.

Him: Because THE GOD made him that way? (That’s how he said it, word for word.)

Me: (Dead. This is my ghost writing this now, and I’m paraphrasing to make myself sound smarter/better.) Well, probably, I guess. Nobody looks like everybody else. We’re all a little weird looking.

Him: Um-hmm. Okay, bye. (Leaves and goes home.)

Me: (I was ready for Spider-Man, and got this prophet. I’m going to go home and put this on Facebook so there’s a record of the day I lost my entire mind.)

The end.


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